When we go to the movies it helps to suspend our disbelief. Why let a few holes in the plot, or the fact that the plot is basically "Pocohontas in Space," ruin our enjoyment?

But you know what? What's good for the movies isn't necessarily good for real life. One of these days, and I look forward to it, we're going to think about the fact that the torch relay began as Nazi propoganda; that cosmetic fixes to social problems come back after the cameras and the Swedish groupies have gone home, and the only price that matters is the opportunity cost of fewer dollars for the arts, education and civic infrastructure. Sure, we have a new line to the airport, and I bet it plays well in the Peoria that's in the tourists hearts, but I can think of at least six NEW routes in the city we could have used, and more frequent service on the ones we do have. But hey, who gives a shit about the people who actually live here? Other transit service has been cut to for the sake of the Canada Line. We should have called it the PPTL - the Peter to Paul transfer line. That leaves a lot of people still getting in their cars in this green wannabe city. So, thanks for nothin', Olympics.

It seems every city endures a fiasco in order to host the halfpipe and men-only ski jumping, which is particularly galling in the snow-white games. It's incredible how the leaders of host cities have a dip in intelligence when hypnotized by the trademarked rings - they're so precious.  At a recent unveiling of paintings of the murdered women of the poverty-stricken downtown eastide, Mayor Gregor Robertson, in an obviously unprepared speech, spoke of how the fate of those women are part of Vancouver's cultural identity, as if violence and misogyny defines us. It's not an identity, you idiot, it's a point of extreme shame that needs to be addressed.

So when the Olympics come to town, I choose not to suspend my disbelief. I'll have fun where appropriate to do so, but I acknowledge the Olympics for what the are: A privileged party for the few. Watching the IOC twist around with their shorts in a knot is entertainment enough - and if I do have fun, I worry if it of the proper IOC appoved variety. Sometimes it's easy to forget that there are even sports involved.

For my part, I'm getting my hands on whatever freebies are going around. Might as well because when the disbelief is gone, believe me, you'll wish you were back in the Matrix.
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